Chapter 3

Broken Souls

Friday

It was around nine but there appeared to be little activity on the streets. As Chelsea drove through the stillness, a familiar sentimentality flowed through her. Her mind drifted back to the first time she’d brought Wes to meet her family. How his brilliant blue eyes widened in amazement at the houses and estates, almost as if he couldn’t believe places like this existed. She remembered his beaming smile as they drove in the gates and how proud she’d been to bring him home.

Stop it, Chelsea, he’s gone.

The second Chelsea pulled to a stop, her sister ran out to meet her. Charlotte wrapped her in a big bear hug as Chelsea climbed from the car.

Charlotte’s curly strawberry-blonde hair bounced and her dark brown eyes sparkled as she gave Chelsea an animated update on the latest gossip. Her chatter remained constant as she strode towards the house. Chelsea, considerably shorter than her tall, slim sister, quickened her steps to keep up. As they entered the large hall, a fluffy grey cat wandered in and wound his way around Chelsea’s legs.

“Hello, Sebastian.” Chelsea beamed as she picked up their beloved pet. “It has been so long since I’ve seen you.”

Chelsea placed Sebastian down as Sarah’s short, petite frame rushed down the stairs, to embrace her eldest child.

“Oh, darling, I’m so glad you’re finally here. I was beginning to worry.” Her brow creased. “I wish you would leave earlier and get here before dark.”

“I couldn’t close early today. I had to finish some bouquets for a wedding this weekend.”

The arrangements were for her shop, Bloom, which she’d bought with the help of a business loan, several years before. Chelsea took pride in what she’d achieved without the aid of her wealthy parents.

“You work too hard, Chelsea. Maybe you should hire more help.” Sarah stopped. Chelsea’s expression silenced her. “Very well, no lecture. Let’s go and locate our men.”

The girls followed their mother toward the study while Charlotte continued to update Chelsea. “You’re not going to believe this but Evan is already seeing Sasha Brooks.”

“You broke up about three weeks ago, didn’t you? I thought it wasn’t that serious.”

“That is not the point. I broke up with him and he still should be heartbroken.”

“Aren’t you already interested in someone else?”

“Once again that is not the point.” She pouted her full lips before stomping into the study.

Chelsea laughed, amused by her sister’s latest folly. As she followed Charlotte into the room that had always been their sanctuary, the comforting warmth surrounded her. The blazing fire from the hearth produced an inviting glow.

Her grandfather, Harold, sat in one of the comfortable leather chairs by the fire, drinking his ritual nightcap of brandy. His thick beard always ready to tickle your cheek and his wavy grey hair was, as usual, in disarray. Chelsea always found her Pa to be an uplifting sight.

Her father, Bradley, sat opposite, attempting to read a book. His lanky frame filled the chair, while his dark wavy hair crept down his face as he came very close to snoozing.

Chelsea’s brother, Hayden, a younger version of his father, lay on the adjacent couch with iPod plugs in his ears. He thumped out a beat on his legs.

Seeing her baby brother, ten years her junior at fifteen, always brought forth familiar tender feelings. She’d loved to mother him as a child.

Hearing the women enter the room, Bradley’s eyes sprang open as though he wasn’t about to doze off and Harold beamed at her.

“Come over here and give your old Pa a kiss.”

Chelsea walked over to give her grandfather an affectionate cuddle and kiss. “Hi Pa, it is so good to see you. Hope you’ve been good.”

“Never. I have to keep Mrs. Simpson down the road on her toes.”

Chelsea laughed and proceeded to her father. “Hi, Dad,” she said giving him a squeeze. “I’ve missed you; it’s nice to be home.”

“We miss you too, honey. It has been far too long.”

Chelsea glanced over at Hayden, who was still playing a drum solo and totally oblivious to anything happening around him.

“Hayden,” Sarah yelled.

“Huh?” he yelled over the music. “What?” He opened his eyes and seeing his sister, pulled the plugs out of his ears. “Hi, Sis.”

Chelsea walked over to her brother and kissed him on the top of his head. “Hey, Hads.”

“Now I can go to bed?” he mumbled.

Hayden unfolded his long, lean frame from the couch and trundled out of the study and upstairs to his room in the left wing of the house.

“So full of conversation, our Hayden,” said Sarah, rolling her eyes.

“He’s a teenager, Mum. I don’t remember being much better. Cut him some slack.”

“I do, Chelsea, but sometimes trying to talk to him is like pulling teeth.”

Chelsea curled up on the couch her brother had vacated, happiness warming her as she listened to the chatter around her. For the first time in months she felt relaxed and comfortable. She soon discovered her eyes growing heavy.

Through her sleep haze Chelsea heard her name and opened her eyes to see Sarah’s kind face beside hers.

“I think perhaps you should go off to bed, honey, especially if you want to get an early start in the garden tomorrow.”

She glanced around to discover only Sarah and Charlotte were still up.

She said goodnight before heading up the staircase to her old room still painted mauve with butterfly motifs adorning the walls from her teenage years. Her white canopy bed draped with sheer curtains looked inviting as always. Remembering her suitcase, she turned to retrieve it from the car and paused when she saw it on the seat by the window. Probably brought up by Bradley. She smiled.

As she prepared for sleep, she tried to ignore the memories of Wes. They troubled her most in this room. She recalled their last visit together when he’d proposed to her on the balcony, under a star-filled sky.

After the family celebrations, they had laid together on this very bed. His broad shoulders were facing her as he propped up on one arm beside her, staring at her with his pale blue eyes. His straight blonde hair fell over one eye as he grinned at her in his boyish, charming way. How they’d gazed at each other filled with love, unable to contain their happiness and excitement about the prospect of a life together.

If he wanted a life with you, why did he leave? Why can’t I forget him? It’s been a year. I’ve gotten on with my life, run the shop, kept busy but he just keeps creeping back in. Stop it, Chelsea, he’s gone, get over it.

Feeling fatigued, she closed her eyes and tried to block out the memories.

* * *

Lucas

Friday

Her hug was warm and he brimmed with comfort and love. She kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair. He scoffed a little but he loved her attention nevertheless. She waved goodbye, her eyes filled with motherly love as she told him not to be late.

As her face began to fade, the house disappeared and as he spun around, he realised where he was. He rushed to where she lay crumpled on the floor, her blood so dark it looked black. Her hazel eyes stared lifeless while he held her cold hand. His clothes became soaked with her blood as he drew her close. He hoped in vain her heart would still beat or her eyes would fill with warmth. He never wanted to let her go, even as the kind voices urged him to do so. He didn’t want them to take his mother away.

Lucas jolted upright, bathed in sweat. The dreams had returned after years of silence, the horror re-emerging. The memories fresh as though it happened yesterday. His chest ached and his eyes stung. He breathed deeply, trying to slow down his rapid beating heart.

Now that his dreams were haunting him again, he began to doubt, for the first time since receiving his badge, his capacity to continue with the case. He was beginning to lose focus, his edge. When conscious he could escape but now the nightmares had returned and sleep was no longer his friend.